


The Fire Within

by theinvisibleninja



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Relationships, Daenerys has dragons, Death, Dragons, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Friendship, Jaime is still the Kingslayer, Multiple Relationships, POV Multiple, Politics, R plus L equals J, Robert's Rebellion with dragons, Romance, Sibling Incest, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibleninja/pseuds/theinvisibleninja
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen is born twenty years earlier and it changes everything. Begrudgingly married to her brother Prince Rhaegar at age thirteen, Daenerys not only births heirs of the Iron Throne, but dragons as well. When Rhaegar runs away with Lyanna Stark, scorning Dany and angering Houses Stark and Baratheon, House Targaryen starts to crumble and it's future rests on Daenerys' shoulders. She finds a surprising ally in the youngest member of her father's Kingsguard.Or, who will win the War of the Usurper now that three dragons grace the battlefield?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in 278AC, 4-5 years before Robert's Rebellion. Daenerys was born in 264AC instead of 284AC, making her 14. There will be a timeskip after this chapter to around 281-282AC, just before Robert's Rebellion.

**DAENERYS**   
_the mother of dragons_   


Daenerys Targaryen sprinted through the halls of the Red Keep, clutching her blood-stained skirt in her hand. Anger pulsed through the young princess’ veins and boiled in her blood as tears of grief, of _rage_ , fell down her cheeks. How could she be so _stupid_? She entrusted the fate of her child into the hands of a witch and her little Visenya had paid the price for it.

“ _WITCH!”_ Daenerys screamed as she stormed into Merentei’s room where the Red Priestess was meditating before her fireplace.

Blinded with rage, Dany grabbed the priestess by the hair and threw her against the wall. She then grabbed a fire poker and pointed it towards the witch’s neck, digging it in deep enough to draw blood. The witch was shaking with fear. Dany felt a sick satisfaction come over her. Merentei wasn’t quite as brave when it was her life being threatened.

It was this very room where the ritual took place, the ritual that doomed two royal babies. Merentei had stabbed a thief in the gut with a knife of Valyrian steel and then painted an ‘X’ on Daenerys’ pregnant stomach with his blood. Dany had thought the witch was blessing her child with strength and good fortune. That’s what both her own father and the Red Priestess promised. But the ritual caused Dany to give birth early to a weak, sickly child who died after only four months of life.

“You killed my child!” Daenerys roared. “You did this to me! You lied to me!”  
  
“I never lied,” the witch retorted in accented Common Tongue. She smirked up at Dany once she felt the tip of the poker being taken away from her neck.

“You told me – you _promised_ me – that the blood sacrifice would make her stronger! You told me that my child would be the third head of the dragon and needed the strength of R’hllor. You lied!”  
  
The priestess chortled at her, but there was no amusement in her voice, only contempt. “No, silly girl. Your father promised you so. I made no such promises.”  
  
“Liar! You told me that my daughter would be Azor Ahai come again,” Dany snarled, lifting the poker up to the priestess’ neck.

“You are mistake once again, Daenerys Stormborn. I told you that your daughter will bring about the coming of our saviour, Azor Ahai. The Prince That Was Promised,” the priestess corrected, still grinning. “I told you that Azor Ahai would come again within the year and rise fire. I remember everything, Daenerys.”

Daenerys stepped away from her, fighting back tears. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of grief or anger, but Dany refused to let the witch see her cry. “How can she possibly do that now? She’s dead! My daughter is dead!”  
  
Merentei’s smirk only became more sinister, widening into a large grin. What she revealed next only served to disturb Dany further. “You’ll find that your daughter will serve a better purpose dead than alive.”

Mouth agape, Dany stared at the witch, horrified. Her arm went limp by her side. She faintly heard the fire poker fall to the ground, its metal clashing with the cold floor. Merentei glanced between Dany and the fire poker. Deciding that this was her only hope of escaping the Red Keep alive, Merentei ran out of her room. Daenerys realised that the witch was gone too late. The young princess ran after her, skirt hiked above her shin.

“Seize her! Ser Barristan, restrain the witch!”  
  
“My lady?” Ser Barristan asked, confusion evident in his tone. Despite his confusion, the old knight drew steel against the Red Witch, backing her against a wall, before he turned the witch around and grabbed her wrists.

Daenerys rushed towards Ser Barristan. The knight regarded her with worried eyes, seeing the blood on her dress, but Daenerys paid him no mind. Her eyes were set on the witch who had taken her child from her. Merentei of Lys would know her pain, Dany decided, and then some.

“Princess, what has happened?” Ser Barristan’s worried voice tore Daenerys from her murderous thoughts. Her violet eyes snapped towards him, surprised that he was still there, even though she knew her surprise was not logical.

“The king’s witch murdered my daughter and brother,” Daenerys growled. The knight winced at the unfamiliar harshness the princess was displaying. Even Dany had surprised herself. “He will no doubt want her dead as well, once he puts the pieces together.”  
  
“Princess, I don’t understand...”  
  
“This witch tricked me into sacrificing my child, as she did the king before my brother was even conceived,” Daenerys explained, eerily calm as she stared at the snarling witch.

Visions flashed before her eyes. Visions she had seen before, mostly in the form of dreams. The two dead children and the betrayer at a funeral pyre, their bodies surrounded by the dragon eggs Lord Varys had gifted to her at her wedding to Rhaegar. Merentei was the betrayer, and her blood would fuel the fire that gave birth to dragons.

“I see it now. What you meant,” Dany told the witch, a small smile on her lips. Hope radiated from the witch’s face, but it was fleeting. “Take her to the black cells.”  
  
“Very well, princess.”  
  
“NO! You need me! Daenerys, do not do this! You need me!”  
  
Dany smirked. “I think you will serve me better dead than alive.”

* * *

“You fool,” was the first thing Rhaegar said to his grieving wife after they lost their child. Thankfully Daenerys was no longer the sensitive sort. She did not respond to him, which resulted in Rhaegar continuing with his insults. “You should have known better than to trust a _witch_.”

“You seemed fine with her when she first came to court,” Daenerys retorted, just as heatedly. “When she was all flattery and compliments. You did not see her as a threat then either!”  
  
“No. But then again I did not allow her to paint my pregnant stomach with the blood of a criminal!”

Daenerys pressed her lips together firmly. She had no answer to that. Feeling tears well in her eyes, Dany turned away from Rhaegar and faced the mirror of her dressing table. Behind her, she heard Rhaegar sigh and sit down on their bed. That was more like him. Rhaegar had never been hot-tempered. He was gloomy and brooding and selfish, but never cruel with words.

“I’m sorry.”  
  
“You are forgiven,” Daenerys replied immediately, blinking away the tears in her eyes.

Rhaegar sighed again. “Father wishes to burn her tomorrow night in the throne room. A public affair, of course.”  
  
“I wish to burn the children with her.”  
  
“Dany...” Rhaegar trailed off, uncertain, giving her a warning look.

“It must be done,” Daenerys stated, with all the authority of the true crown princess she had turned into over night. “It _must_ be done. With fire and blood.”  
  
She saw her brother’s expression through the mirror. A familiar look crossed his face, one that she had seen many times before during his discussions with Father. It was more than just fear, it was fear in it’s most powerful form, mingled with disgust and horror. Daenerys hated that it was directed at her, caused by what she had just said. _He will understand soon enough,_ she reassured herself. She would hate for Rhaegar to think her mad.

“You sound... like him,” Rhaegar said slowly, horrified. It broke her heart to hear his voice break like that, to hear his voice mingled with pain and horror. To hear his accusations directed at _her_.

Dany rose from her vanity and moved to sit beside her brother. She placed a hand on his shoulder and another on his face, turning his face towards her so he could see the promise in her eyes. “I am not him, Rhaegar, and I will never become him. I swear it.”

Rhaegar didn’t nod or give some sort of sign that he was appeased as she had hoped he would. No. Her brother and husband simply regarded her with a sorrowful expression and whispered, “That’s what all mad men say before madness overcomes them. Promises mean nothing when the darkness seeps in.”

She had nothing to say to that. Was this madness? Dany did not know, so she closed her mouth and looked at the wall ahead of her, her mind drifting to a vision of a witch aflame and dragons rising from her ashes.

* * *

**RHAEGAR  
** _the silver prince_

Disturbing as it was, Rhaegar remembered his little sister when she was just that, little and innocent and blind to all life’s tribulations. He remembered the day their grandmother died, and Daenerys rushed to their mother’s chambers as soon as she heard the news, to check if Queen Rhaella was alright. A child of three, Dany had been more concerned about her mother being sad than herself.

She didn’t remain a child for long. Their father saw to that. At twelve, Aerys started to get too familiar with his daughter, touching her in ways no man, not even a king, should ever even _think_ to touch their daughter. Rhaegar tried to protect her then, just as he tried to protect her now.

But how was he to protect her from herself? From her own madness?

Daenerys had somehow managed to convince their father to burn their children with the Red Witch of Lys and to change the site of the pyre to the Kingswood. Rhaegar couldn’t imagine his sweet-tempered sister ever manipulating anyone, let alone their cruel father, but yet Dany had gotten her way.

His sister had placed her treasured dragon eggs beside and on Visenya’s dead body. The pale cream egg was positioned beside their daughter’s head, the black laid atop the left side of her tiny chest, and the deep green egg laid at Visenya’s feet. Rhaegar knew what Dany was planning, and he did not like it.

Just as the pyre was lit by Ser Gerold Hightower, the Red Witch, shaking with fright, managed to snarl at Daenerys, “You will not hear me scream, child! For my lord stands beside me!”  
  
“It is not your screams I want,” he heard Daenerys say darkly, “only your life.”  
  
Her words chilled him to the bone, and startled the Red Witch as well. When Rhaegar looked at his wife, he saw no emotion on her face whatsoever, only flames dancing in her eyes as she stared at the pyre with some sick fascination.

The Red Witch started muttering then, a prayer in Old Valyrian to her God. Rhaegar pitied her. All those about to die deserved pity, he believed, even those who had wronged him as she had. But his wife had no pity for the witch.

A bright light in the dark sky forced Rhaegar’s eyes away from the pyre and up to the sky. A large, red star flew across the sky, like a ball of fire making its way across the world. Dany smiled up at the sky, before looking back down at the pyre, determination shining in those violet eyes of hers, so alike his. Daenerys started to walk towards the fire, in some sort of trance. In an instant, Rhaegar had grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“Dany, we are not fireproof,” Rhaegar told her. “If you walk into that pyre, you will burn.”  
  
His wife smiled at him, a sad, pitiful smile, and laid a hand on his cheek. “Fear not, husband. You do not understand now. But you will.”  
  
Wide-eyed and shocked, Rhaegar’s grip on his wife’s wrist loosened. Daenerys took that opportunity to step away from him and walk into the flames. Rhaegar wanted to run after her, but just as he took his first step towards the pyre, he saw fire lick the bottom of Daenerys’ dress, burning it to dust. He waited for her scream.

It never came.

The only sound that could be heard was his mother’s loud shriek of despair, the fire crackling and his father’s mad laughter. Rhaegar dropped to his knees, and the rest of the court followed suit except for his father. He caught a glimpse of Dany’s beautiful silver-gold hair within the flames before fire engulfed her like a blanket. All he could do now was pray.

He stayed awake until morning came, like most of the lords and ladies of the court. His father had left hours ago. “And they dare to call me mad!” he had shouted before he took his leave. The court did not spare him false laughter, no one even spared him a smile. His mother had left the king’s side to kneel beside her son, an act she would surely pay for later.

It took all night, but the fire had died down to the point that Rhaegar would not burn to death if he stepped within the pyre. So the crown prince stood and searched for a path where the fire did not burn as strong. He ignored his mother’s protests, walking into the pyre as Dany had the night before, only he wasn’t as likely to die. Rhaegar feared that he would find her ashes along with the ashes of his child.

A loud cry came from somewhere within the pyre, though the cry was not quite human. Rhaegar smiled and laughed in relief. That cry was all it took to lift his spirits, all he needed to know that his sister was still alive. She had done it. She had truly done it.

He followed the cries that were beginning to sound more like singing to Rhaegar’s ears. The fire had almost completely died down, and the visions he had seen within the flames were almost completely gone. He would think about them later, but for now, all he could think about was his sister and wife, sitting on the ground with three dragons surrounding her. The black dragon was perched on her shoulder while the cream and gold dragon and the green sucked at her breast.

Sensing his presence, Dany’s eyes flickered up to him. The coldness held within them the night before had vanished, and in its place the softness had returned. Rhaegar recognised that look. She had the same expression on her face when he had come to see Rhaenys and Aegon after she had just given birth, and then Visenya a year later. It was the look of doting mother as she held her child.

Only this time, Dany was not the mother of children.

Daenerys was the mother of dragons.  
  
  



	2. Mother of Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon gets loose and Daenerys must suffer the consequences. Meanwhile, Jaime and Cersei battle over their future.

  **DAENERYS** **  
**_the mother of dragons  
_

* * *

**281AC  
the Year of the False Spring**

“Mother! Mother, look at me! I’m a dragonrider!”

Daenerys looked over to where Rhaenys was, finding her daughter climbing onto Visenyon’s back. Dany dropped the chains she had just released Rhaelle from on to the ground and raced over to Rhaenys, but she was too late. Visenyon had already thrown Rhaenys off his back and onto the ground. Her daughter landed with a loud _thud_ as Visenyon roared with displeasure.

“ _Hush, my child,”_ Daenerys soothed the dragon, stroking his neck in an attempt to quiet him. If her father found out that she could no longer control Visenyon, that would only give the paranoid king an excuse to have him killed. Dany felt terrible for prioritising a dragon over her daughter, but she would not let her dragon be slaughtered.

Visenyon eventually calmed and leaned into his mother’s touch. Dany smiled as the black dragon became soothed. Unchained and restless, Dany decided that it was time for them to take off.

“Sōvēs,” she whispered to her three dragons, though they heard her nonetheless. The three took flight, soaring into the sky as Daenerys and her daughter stared on.

_Someday,_ Dany thought with wonder, _someday, I will be riding upon Visenyon’s back as he takes flight._ That made Daenerys smile. Her largest dragon was the one she favoured the most. He had been lain beside Visenya’s heart in the funeral pyre and then named after her dead child. But her affection for him was more than just that. As a young dragon, he had clung to her more than the others. Whenever she left him alone for more than a few minutes he had wailed for her until she came back. Three years later and Visenyon was not so attached to his mother, but the affection still remained.

Jaehaerion, the green and bronze, had long chosen Rhaegar to be his dragonrider, while Rhaelle, the cream and gold, had yet to choose hers. Dany expected her to choose Viserys to be her dragonrider, as had many, but upon their first meeting when young Viserys had climbed upon her back, Rhaelle had thrown him off. When Rhaenys tried to climb on Rhaelle’s back once, however, Rhaelle had flown a few feet in the air with Rhaenys on her back. It seemed her daughter was destined to be a dragonrider.

Suddenly remembering that her daughter lay upset on the ground, Dany shook her head and tore her eyes away from her dragons, sitting down with Rhaenys on the ground. She smiled at her daughter and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, Rhaenys, you must know by now that a dragon does not like to be mounted by those who are not his dragonrider,” Dany told her daughter, “of which a dragon only has one.”  
  
“I forgot, Mother, please do not be mad,” Rhaenys pleaded, tears shining in her eyes.

“I am not mad with you, my love. I just want you to understand.”  
  
“Does that mean that Rhaelle will not let you mount her?” Rhaenys asked, head tilted to the side curiously.

“No. Neither will Jaehaerion. Your father is the only one he will let mount him, as I am the only one Visenyon will allow,” Daenerys explained.

“And Rhaelle?”  
  
“Rhaelle has not chosen yet.” Dany smiled at her young daughter. “It could be you, for all I know.”  
  
Rhaenys chirped up and beamed at Daenerys. “I would like that very much! But how do you know if a dragon wants you to be its dragonrider?”  
  
That, Dany didn’t know the answer to. From the moment Visenyon had hopped onto her shoulder, Daenerys just _knew_. There was a connection she shared with the black dragon which she didn’t share with the other two. She loved all her dragons, yes, but Visenyon was different... he was _hers_.

Rhaegar hadn’t been able to explain it either. Since he first met Jaehaerion, the green dragon had taken to him in a way he hadn’t to Daenerys. Dany wasn’t jealous, though, as a dragonrider could not ride more than one dragon anyway.

“I can’t... quite explain it,” Daenerys said thoughtfully. “You just know, I suppose. There’s this pull, of sorts.” Her answer seemed to disappoint Rhaenys, as though it had squashed any possibility of her ever being Rhaelle’s dragonrider. Dany cupped her daughter’s left cheek in her hand. “Do not fret, my love. You are too young to understand such magic.”  
  
“Magic?” Rhaenys perked up.

“Yes, magic,” Dany smiled. “It runs in our blood. You’ll feel it someday, when you’re older. You probably feel it already but you haven’t yet realised.”  
  
“Dany,” she heard Rhaegar call behind her, interrupted her talk with Rhaenys.

Daenerys stiffened, irritation stilling her bones. It was an act she was sure her perceptive daughter did not miss. The crown princess stood to greet Rhaegar, forcing herself to be civil when she knew what would come next.

“Rhaegar.”  
  
“You released the dragons again.”  
  
“I did,” was all Dany said, for she felt that she had done nothing wrong.

Rhaegar frowned. “I thought we agreed that they would stay within the Dragonpit for now.”

“ _For now_ ,” Dany scoffed. She was less able to keep her anger hidden. “For now turns into forever and before long my dragons are stunted and weak. Or have you forgotten what happened to the last dragon?”  
  
“I have not,” her brother promised, but to Dany it seemed as though it had.

The last dragon had been born to parents raised in captivity, and was itself forced to grow in an enclosed space. Daenerys would fight tooth and nail before she let that happen. Her dragons deserved to roam the skies. They had not hurt anyone yet, so she didn’t see the harm.

Instead of speaking, Daenerys had resolved to glaring at her husband. She would not back down from this, as she had many times before during their arguments. He would not win.

“Visenyon returned later last night. Half a day, that’s what we originally agreed to. You defied even that.”  
  
“That’s what _you_ demanded,” Dany said, though it came out as a snarl. “I agreed to nothing.”  
  
“You agreed to call them back before night fall.”

“And I did,” Daenerys swore, unable to hide the shame from her face. She had done her duty; she had called her dragons home once the sun had disappeared from the sky, yet only two returned.

Rhaegar nodded, understanding. “I see.”  
  
“You will not tell Father.” Rhaegar said nothing. Daenerys panicked. “Rhaegar, you mustn’t! He will have Visenyon killed! You know he sees them as a threat, this will only give him an excuse!”  
  
A Targaryen cannot kill his own’s family’s dragon. It was unheard of. Though with the right excuse, Daenerys knew that familial honour and custom would not be enough. King Aerys expected his daughter and son to rise against him in rebellion as soon as their dragons grew large enough and reign fire down upon him and take his throne.

Because of that, the king’s paranoia, Rhaegar and Daenerys were forbidden to leave King’s Landing unless they were prepared to leave the dragons in the Dragonpit. Dany would never leave her dragons, and the children would not leave without their mother, and Rhaegar would not leave without his children. So they all stayed in King’s Landing.

“I will not tell him,” Rhaegar declared after a few moments of agonising silence. Dany released a relieved sigh. “But you will be the one to give him an _excuse_ , Daenerys. Visenyon is wild, and you give him too much freedom. If you cannot train him properly...”  
  
“I can,” Dany insisted, “and I will.”  
  
The silver prince regarded her uncertainly. “I hope for Visenyon’s sake that is true.”  
  
It was not, for Visenyon did not come home that night, and for many nights after that he flew across the Seven Kingdoms, unchained and uncontrolled.

* * *

******TYWIN**  
_the lion of lannister  
_

“There has not been any known sighting of the princess’ dragon in more than a fortnight,” Tywin informed the king when he had asked. “The last person who saw Visenyon was the shepherd.”

Charred sheep bones was the shepherd’s proof that the dragon had burned seven of his flock. The crown had compensated the man handsomely after he swore before the Sept of Baelor that he was telling the truth. Tywin found the whole ordeal tedious. If only the princess could have just found herself a pet – a friendlier pet that did not burn livestock – then all this could be avoided.

“You should send a letter north, my lord. To see if Lord Stark has any tell of the dragon’s whereabouts,” Pycelle suggested.

Aerys narrowed his eyes, whether in thought or in rage, Tywin could not tell. Eventually, he gave a short nod of approval.

“Very well,” Tywin agreed when he realised that the king would not speak. “I suggest that we equip each Great House with restraints and gear so they can bring the princess’ dragon home unharmed.” Tywin paused for a moment, debating whether to make another suggestion that might anger the king. He said it anyway. “And a muzzle, if the king would allow it.”  
  
“Unharmed?” The king barked an unkind laugh that sounded insane to Tywin. The laughter lasted for longer than could be considered normal. “I want nothing but that dragon’s corpse returned to me. I want his bones to decorate the throne room. I do not want the dragon alive. He is only another weapon my children can use against me!”  
  
“Your Grace,” Tywin spoke carefully, daring to speak some sense into the king since Pycelle seemed unwilling to. The king’s eyes snapped dangerously towards Lord Tywin. “The smallfolk have taken to the dragons well, the princess too. They call her the Mother of Dragons and believe her to be some sort of saviour-”  
  
“Which is why she must be crushed!” the king roared, slamming his fist onto the table.

Tywin had often heard him rage about Princess Daenerys and her three dragons and what a threat they posed to him. Princess Daenerys was barely a woman and her dragons weren’t large enough yet to burn down a castle. The king could likely be dead by the time they were large enough to be a threat.

“Your Grace,” it was Pycelle who spoke this time, for once speaking against his king. “If I may, while I agree that the dragons could become an issue, having one of your own dragons killed... it makes a mockery of the great House Targaryen. You yourself are of dragon blood, my king, and to have a dragon bound to one of your house killed... it would not inspire loyalty and fear in those who would wish to take your crown from you.”

“I am a dragon!” Aerys declared, glaring at Pycelle with two twitching eyes.

Warily, Tywin observed his king, wondering if it was safe to try to reason with him yet. Pycelle had sown the seed. All Tywin had to do was help the flower grow.

“A dragon you may be, Your Grace, but no mere mortal like you or I could inspire such fear in the people of Westeros as a dragon could.” He tread on dangerous waters, but Aerys had made no move to threaten or roar at Tywin yet, so the Lion of Lannister continued. “Let the dragon live. Chain him up in the Dragonpit with his siblings and I will make sure that the girl’s dragons never leave King’s Landing again. They will not fly or even leave their chains. They will grow weak and stunted, incapable of burning any city or even villages. The dragons will exist only to remind the world of the power of House Targaryen.”  
  
The old king beamed and straightened proudly in his seat, and that was how Tywin knew he had won. He allowed a small, smug grin to grave his lips for a quick second, before the king shattered his victory.

“Yes. Daenerys’ dragons will be nothing if they are small and weak. The two dragons will remain in the Dragonpit for as long as I live, never to fly again.”  
  
“And Visenyon, Your Grace?” Pycelle urged. “The black dragon?”  
  
The king’s eyes darkened, insanity seeping into them again. He laughed a cold, harsh laugh that sent chills down Aerys’ bones. “I want him dead!”  
  
Tywin sighed quietly. And what the king wanted, the king would have.

 

* * *

******RHAELLA**  
_the good queen  
_

From the balcony overlooking the Dragonpit, Rhaella watched Jaehaerion and Rhaelle playfully fight each other, as any young children would. It put a sad smile on the queen’s face as she recalled that her eldest children never had that closeness. Dany, even as a child, have so much love and affection to give, while her older brother only had time for books and prophecies. Even the dragons were more affectionate with each other than Rhaegar and Dany had been.

Suddenly, the dragons stopped brawling and looked up at Rhaella. They started to roar. It was more of a screeching sound than a roar. Rhaella remembered Visenyon’s roar, the loud, frightening sound that it was. It frightened even Aerys, who once requested that a muzzle be put over Visenyon’s mouth. No wonder the king was so delighted the black dragon had fled King’s Landing. Of all Dany’s dragons, Visenyon was the largest and his fire the hottest.

The dragons roared for their brother. For their mother, who had hidden herself within her rooms and had not seen outside them in two weeks. Ever since the shepherd came to King’s Landing and claimed that Visenyon had burnt half his herd, Dany, already depressed from losing her favourite dragon and ashamed that she was unable to bring him back, had refused to see anyone but her two children and her mother.

That was until another man came to King’s Landing with another set of bones to prove his story true.

Ser Barristan had been sent to fetch Daenerys, but Rhaella stopped him in his tracks, having just returned from visiting the dragons. The knight told her what the peasant man claimed and Rhaella sent him away, telling him that she would tell Daenerys, instead of having the king taunt Dany and make her upset. Better it come from her mother’s lips than anyone else’s, so Dany would be free to express herself as she wished.

“Mother,” Dany inclined her head respectfully as soon as she saw her mother. Her ladies flocked her like hens. They were all highborn girls from wealthy houses. Cersei Lannister, Janna and Mina Tyrell, Alerie Hightower, Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne... all young, beautiful girls, eager to please and masked in pleasantries. Rhaella had warned her daughter of them, especially Tywin’s girl, who Rhaella had not liked since their first introduction.

“Dany,” Rhaella greeted. For a few seconds, she was brought back to a time when she was the young princess and Joanna Lannister waited upon her. That was a long time ago, but Rhaella still had to shake her head to rid herself of the memory. She sobered, remembering why she was here. “I must speak with you. _Alone_.”

With a quick nod of the princess’ head, her ladies scurried away, leaving Dany and Rhaella alone in the princess’ solar.

“What is it you wish to speak to me about, Mother?”  
  
Her daughter looked tired, as though the weight of world was upon her shoulders. Rhaella would do anything to lessen it. Dany had always been a special child. She cared about people and never sought to hurt them. Rhaella found it ironic that the Gods had chosen her daughter to be the Mother of Dragons when Dany would never hurt a fly. The queen remembered the night the dragons were brought into the world, and how coldly her daughter had regarded the burning witch. She had thought that Dany would never be the same kind girl after seeing how ruthless she was that night, Rhaella had been wrong. Dany became the kind girl and loving mother she had always been. Those dragons of hers were more pets than weapons, more children than beasts.

What Rhaella had to say would crush her daughter.

“A man came to the Keep today. A man from just outside the Crownlands,” Rhaella said carefully. Dany raised an eyebrow, wondering what this had to do with her. Rhaella sighed. “He brought bones, Daenerys.”  
  
Dany looked as though she was going cry. “More livestock?”  
  
“No, my love. Not livestock,” Rhaella corrected. If her daughter was this upset over some sheep, Rhaella tried not to think about how her daughter would react to the true story. But she had to tell her, or someone else would. “Dany, there were two sets of bones. They weren’t sheep this time, my sweet. Visenyon happened upon two young girls.”  
  
Daenerys screamed.

The pain and shock on her daughter’s face was a sight no mother ever wanted to see. She tried to cradle Dany in her arms, but Dany was as stiff as stone, weeping quiet tears and clutching the armrest of her chair. Her body started shaking as she began to breathe too quickly. Rhaella held onto her tighter, and Dany wrapped her arms around her mother and cried on her shoulder.

“How old were they?” Dany sobbed.

“Dany...”  
  
“I must know,” Dany declared, the sobs still shaking her body. “I must.”

“One was five. The other three.”  
  
Daenerys' sobs became even louder and her grip on her mother tighter. Rhaella cooed and whispered reassurances into Daenerys’ ears, which seemed to slowly calm down the princess until Dany had stopped sobbing and tore herself away from her mother’s embrace.

“I brought them into the world,” Daenerys said, the flames from the hearth flickering in her violet eyes. “Mother of dragons, they call me,” Dany scoffed. “But perhaps I am only the mother of monsters. I am the blood of the dragon as well. If they are monsters, so am I.”  
  
“You are not a monster, Dany,” Rhaella quickly assured her daughter, resting a hand atop of Daenerys’. Dany looked to her mother with tears in her eyes. “You are good and kind. What your dragons does, does not define you. Know that.”  
  
“I unleashed them into the world,” Dany croaked. “Perhaps Father is right. They truly are beasts.”  
  
“Your father is paranoid. He believes that he should he the only dragon. He prefers tales and songs over the real thing.” Rhaella chastised herself for being so bold when Dany’s ladies were only in the next room, but continued on nonetheless. “You brought back the age of dragons, Daenerys, the age of _magic_. For so long we have boasted of being the blood of the dragon, and for the first time in over a century, it is true. And you did that.” She gave Dany a fond smile.

“Perhaps,” her daughter allowed, though her mood did not cheer. “But that does not change the fact that Visenyon burned two little girls alive. They were of close age to Rhaenys and Aegon, Mother. How can I ignore that? Their mother grieves as I would.”  
  
“That is true, my love. But as it happens you cannot change the past. You will study how the dragonlords of old tamed their dragons and tame the two in the Dragonpit. And when Visenyon returns to you, you will train him as well.”  
  
“And if he does not?”  
  
Rhaella smiled sadly and sighed. “Then he does not.”  
  
They sat in silence, staring at the fire in the hearth. Rhaella’s heart broke to see her daughter so troubled. She was but a child in truth, and already a mother to two children and mother to dragons. _Mother of monsters._ The words echoed in Rhaella’s head. Her daughter was certainly not that.

“The king wishes to speak with you. The man... he waits in the throne room.”  
  
“He wishes to speak with me as well?”  
  
“He does.”  
  
Daenerys rose from her seat, stumbling as she did. Rhaella caught Dany in her arms and steadied her. Giving her mother a quiet thanks, Daenerys started to walk towards the throne room, shoulders squared and defensive. Both knew that this meeting would not be an easy one. It would cause Dany a great deal of pain, guilt and even embarrassment, but it was yet another ordeal they must go through because their king was a mad man.

Rhaella barely acknowledged the ladies following Dany. _Like a flock of hens, truly,_ the queen thought for the second time that day. Young girls were silly things, but young boys were too. She could not fault them for that. In fact, she envied them.

“Your Grace,” Dany curtseyed in front of her father’s throne, and Rhaella did the same. “You sent for me?”  
  
The king’s smile was sadistic and cruel. From the corner of her eye, Rhaella could see Dany grimace. At least she knew what was coming.

“Sit, girl. The two of you. There is a man who has come far to share his grievance with you.” Her father looked delighted. Rhaella tried to ignore him, and hoped that Dany did the same. She sat beside her husband’s throne while Dany sat on the seat beside Rhaella. Hidden from the court’s prying eyes, a mother held her daughter’s hand.

“Come, peasant. Tell my daughter what her _child_ has done.” Aerys scoffed.

“Your Grace,” the man bowed before the throne. He looked like a farmer, dressed in clothes not suitable for a knight or lord, yet not as scruffy as the clothes those who dwelled in Flea Bottom wore.

“Get on with it.” Her husband was eager, excited like a child.

The man began nervously, “I spotted a dragon flying in the sky about a week ago, now. His wing made a shadow large enough to cover my cottage in darkness. It was the black one. Vis- Vis-”  
  
“Visenyon,” Dany finished, but said nothing more, urging the man to continue. She wanted this to finish as soon as possible so she could return to her room and cry.

The farmer nodded. “Yes, Visenyon. My girls were so excited. They had never seen a dragon before, as few have, and ran out of the cottage to get a better look. Then he started burning sheep. My daughters were frightened. I would not have come had he only burned the sheep. He only burnt six. But then he...” The man began to weep, clutching the sack in his arms tightly. Rhaella only noticed the sack then. “As my daughters ran across the field to get inside, the dragon flew above them and he... there was fire. So much fire. He... he burnt them. He burnt my daughters, my girls!” the man sobbed. Tears were racing down his cheeks. He fell onto his knees. Rhaella felt Dany’s hand starting to shake again.

“Show her the bones,” Aerys commanded, head turning towards Daenerys, a sick smile on his face as his daughter began to weep.

The man obeyed and uncovered the blackened bones of his children. Rhaella gasped as Daenerys sobbed. Dany tried to sob quietly, but soon enough those closest to the throne could hear the princess cry for what her dragon had done.

Seeing that Dany had nothing to say, Aerys laughed cruelly and turned to the man. “I would give you gold as compensation, but I do not think that is enough. Do you, Daenerys? This lives of two little girls were stolen by your beast. Do you think that gold is enough?”  
  
“No,” Dany croaked, gripping onto her mother’s hand for dear life. Rhaella gave Dany’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“No,” the king repeated. “It would not. I will not give you gold. I will give you something better. Something that is... priceless.” The smirk on Aerys’ face told Rhaella that she would not like the king’s idea of compensation. “I will give you the flesh of the beast that did this to your children. How would you like a dragon pelt?” His eyes, wide with madness, flashed towards Daenerys.  
  
Daenerys screamed.

* * *

**JAIME** ****  
_the young lion  
_

Jaime Lannister was long infatuated with dreams of knighthood and glory, of gallantry and infinite honour. His sister teased him for having such childish dreams, but Jaime didn’t care. He never had much interest in being a lord or ruling over the Westerlands. He liked fighting and tourneys and glory and being with Cersei, and that was it. Everything else failed to catch his interest.

So when Cersei had hatched a plan to keep him in King’s Landing with her, Jaime had easily agreed after a night of passionate love-making. He would join the Kingsguard and stay close to Cersei. He would have the only two things in the world that he wanted. The only downside was that Cersei would have to marry the young prince Viserys when he came of age, but it was worth it to have Cersei close to him and avoid a marriage with Lysa Tully.

Everything was going to plan. He had received word only a fortnight ago that he was to become a member of the Kingsguard. He would be raised to the Kingsguard and don his white cloak at the grand tourney at Harrenhall in only two months.

All their plans fell apart with only one letter.

As soon as the maester handed him the letter – he took care to notice the seal was of House Lannister, instead of the seal his father used as Hand of the King – Jaime ripped open the letter impatiently and scanned through it, a frown etched upon his handsome face as soon as he read the first sentence.

“ _You have disappointed me and disgraced House Lannister.”  
  
_ Jaime thought he could predict what his father’s letter would contain, an angry rant about how Jaime should be the heir of Casterly Rock instead of a glorified bodyguard, but Lord Tywin managed to surprise Jaime once again. The Old Lion of Lannister had forsaken his position as Hand of the King and was to return home to Casterly Rock. _With Cersei._

He had to read the letter twice. Cersei’s betrothal with the young prince was broken and she would return home with Tywin. They would find a suitable match for her in time. So Jaime, having already committed himself to the Kingsguard, would have to serve the royal family in King’s Landing without his father or sister present in the city. He crushed the letter in his hand and tossed it into the fire.

The young lion let out a roar.

A golden flagon of wine had also found itself on the ground, along with three golden goblets. Jaime hadn’t had a tantrum in years, but he was having one now, at the ripe age of five and ten.

He barely noticed that he was not alone in his room anymore, and only noticed his aunt’s presence when she spoke. All it took was a few words and Jaime knew that his Aunt Genna knew _everything_.

“You heard,” Genna stated. Face flushed with anger, Jaime nodded. He could not find his voice. “It is for the best, Jaime. It may not seem like it now, son, but you need to be away from your sister.”  
  
“You don’t understand!”  
  
“I understand everything,” Genna promised. She shut the door behind her and lowered her voice. “I know that you love her and you think she loves you, and perhaps she does in her own twisted little way. But girls like Cersei will only use you up until your dry and throw you away. You deserve better than that, Jaime. You do.”  
  
Stunned into silence, Jaime couldn’t think of anything to say. He should have known his aunt would notice. Aunt Genna was perceptive. Nothing went over her head. He and Cersei had thought her to be like the rest of them, naive and easily fooled, but Genna was anything but foolish. He knew that now.

“You agree that I should join the Kingsguard?”  
  
“No,” Genna said firmly. “I would have preferred if Cersei had married a lord far away and you stayed here to be your father’s heir, but that is not the way it is to be. At least now you’ll be far away from her... _company_.”  
  
“You do not approve,” Jaime noted with a scowl, his lips curling at the edge.

Genna raised an eyebrow. “Do you expect me to?”

“No,” he answered truthfully.

His aunt sighed and turned around, walking towards the door. Before she left, however, Genna started speaking again. “I don’t pretend to understand what it is you feel for your sister, Jaime. But I do know this: if you allow her to control your life and make all your decisions, you’ll end up a very unhappy man. Let her go, Jaime. You’ll be happier for it.”  
  
She gave him one last sad smile before departing. Jaime groaned and sat down in the seat beside the window. He didn’t want to listen to a word his aunt had said, he didn’t want to believe any of it, but he did. He was beginning to think that Cersei was more of a curse than the love of his life.

Tywin Lannister and the rest of the Lannister household that had resided in King’s Landing returned to Casterly Rock within a fortnight. For the first time in many years, King’s Landing wouldn’t be graced with a few dozen Lannisters running about. Their enemies at court would be delighted.

The Lannister family would dine together that evening. Tywin hadn’t sat down with all three of his children for a meal in quite some time. Despite that, Jaime was not looking forward to it. No doubt his father was going to give his eldest son and former heir an earful.

Jaime looked at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was handsome, that any woman in the Seven Kingdoms would be delighted to be his wife. If that made him vain, he did not care. Aunt Genna said that it was waste, for such a handsome young lord like him to join the Kingsguard.

_"The world could have been yours, my boy, and you have thrown it all to be the Mad King’s bodyguard.”_  
  
He was full of regret now. A large part of him wanted to send a raven to the Lord Commander saying that he would not join the Kingsguard, but the young knight had honour and his honour would not let him go back on his word.

Not even his sister, dressed in a beautiful gown of red and gold that displayed a little too much of endowments, could convince him to change his mind.

“You must stay here, Jaime. With me! We cannot be separated,” Cersei pleaded, kneeling on the ground before him, his hands clasped in hers. Tears had gathered in those beautiful green eyes, identical to his. Jaime wondered if they were genuine.

“Only a few months ago you told me that I _must_ join the Kingsguard. Sweet sister, be a little less fickle.”  
  
“Things have changed!” Cersei declared, rising to her feet. Jaime knew that the heartbroken lover act would not last long. His sister stood now, eyes blazing with anger, in her true form. “If you join the Kingsguard, you will be stuck in King’s Landing without your family. You will be alone!”  
  
“I have made my bed and I must lie in it. I will not go back on my word. Not even for you,” Jaime stated, trying to keep his voice firm.

Cersei scoffed. “You think you’re some great, honourable knight from the songs, don’t you? You think you’ll go down in history as some esteemed bodyguard-”  
  
“You’ve been listening too much to Father,” Jaime pointed out.

His sister continued on, ignoring that he had spoken at all. “You will be serving King Aerys’ – the Mad King. You will stand by him as he executes innocent men, as he taunts his own daughter and plots against his own children. You think there’s anything honourable about that?” Cersei laughed derisively and slowly, mockingly, shook her head. “Oh you sweet fool. My foolish brother. You will serve a madman. You best hope that Prince Rhaegar figures out how to remove his father from the throne before he has you burned alive. Just because he feels like it.”  
  
“These are all tales. Lies and exaggerations told by the king’s enemies. You should know how court works by now, sister,” Jaime chastised, though the fear in his eyes was enough to betray his true feelings.

“Fine,” Cersei chirped, a smirk forming on her lips. “I can’t promise that the stories I have not seen for myself are true, so I’ll tell you what I’ve seen for myself, shall I? Just before we left, the king decided to hear petitions for the first time in only Gods know how long. You know how he likes to leave ruling to Father unless it involves burning flesh. Well, it seems the king heard that there was a man coming with burnt bones, bones burnt by Princess Daenerys’ rogue dragon. He had the little fool brought to the throne room to hear the peasant grievance, smirked at her while the peasant cried and then urged him to show the princess the blackened bones. They were the peasant’s daughters, you see. Two little girls. Five and three. Burnt by that black beast. Visenyon, I think.

“Princess Daenerys disgraced herself by sobbing and shaking like a leaf in front of the entire court. The king loved watching his daughter weep. Then he promised the peasant compensation. Not gold, for that was not enough. So he promised the peasant the pelt of the beast that had killed his daughters. Daenerys screamed and sobbed and begged her father. _‘Anything else, Father! I’ll do anything! Please, please!’_ ” Cersei mimicked the princess’ voice, making her out to be high-pitched and weak. She then chuckled to herself at the memory. “The king had her dragged out of the throne room. There’s a large prize to be won for killing the dragon. There you go, brother. Slay the dragon and you will be remembered as the honourable dragonslayer. Jaime the Dragonslayer, do you like it?”

“What is it your trying to say, Cersei? Be frank,” Jaime requested tiredly, trying to hide how his sister’s story had affected him. In truth, he loathed to be a Kingsguard to a madman, but Jaime refused to sacrifice his honour by going back on his word. He would do his duty, even if it meant having to stand by as the king terrorised innocents and, as it seemed, his own family.

“I’m saying that, dear brother, your honour is compromised whether you become a Kingsguard or not. Going back on your word is dishonourable, yes, but is serving a mad king, a cruel king, a king who enjoys watching his daughter cry and killing her little pet, is that more honourable? You are caught in a corner, brother. _My love._ The only difference is that one choice involves a lifetime of unhappiness, and the other involves staying here with me, with the woman you love!”  
  
Jaime regarded his sister for a few minutes. She thought she had won. She mistook his silence as agreement, the look in his eyes for love. It was not love he had in his eyes. Only pity. Jaime could see it now. She expected him to forsake his dreams for her, yet she would not forsake her dreams for him. He wanted to be a knight. She wanted to be a queen but would settle for being a princess. _No more,_ Jaime decided.

“It appears, dear sister, that I must choose unhappiness.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wondering, whose your favourite POV? Personally I really enjoy writing Daenerys, Rhaella and Jaime. And are there any other POVs you'd like to see?


End file.
